The Olive Branch
by Holywoodunderfed
Summary: A cross-over of Life is Strange Seasons 1 and 2: Sean's car has run out of gas, and now he sets on foot to Haven Point to find Daniel. But when two unexpected strangers arrive to help him on his journey, he questions everything about himself, and Daniel's mysterious power. (Expanded from a one-shot idea)
1. Sean

"Dammit," Sean muttered to himself.

After hovering close for the last few miles, the needle had ruthlessly stationed itself at the E. There was nothing left. Haven Point was still miles away.

He sighed heavily, his forehead resting on the horn. The horn in question bellowed an almost melodic sound across the desolate desert.

_Guess I have to walk to Haven Point now_, he thought.

Ordinarily, Sean would've freaked out. Yet one more setback on his journey to safety. But this one seemed tame by comparison. Walking through a desert seemed rudimentary compared to hurting his eye.

Said injured eye twitched under the gauze. He thought about applying the medicine he had in his bag, but he dismissed the thought. His only worry now was making the trek to Haven Point.

Briskly, he stripped his worn hoodie and stuffed it into his backpack. Sean placed his hand on the handle, and hesitantly swung the door open.

He was assaulted by the driest of heats. Almost unbearable, but withstandable nonetheless.

Sean huffed for air. The heat was sweltering. It seemed to surround him and suffocate him. He almost wished he was back at the cool confines at the hospital.

Almost. The thought of Daniel urged his tired soul forward.

But his survival instincts screamed at him to find shade as soon as possible. Fortunately for him, a billboard stood tall just yards ahead of him. Just beyond it, an oasis of shade.

Sean's steps angled him towards his respite. Just a little rest, and then he'd be right back on his feet and back on his quest.

Then, his ears caught a faint sound. The familiar sound was growing closer at a fast rate.

_Car_, thought Sean absentmindedly.

The beautiful noise quieted slowly. Sean peeked to his left to find two strangers, one boy in the driver's seat and one girl in the passenger's staring back at him.

"Need a ride?" said the girl.

**AN: Like the summary says, this was supposed to be a one-shot, and by all intents and purposes, it is. But I decided to make it multiple short chapters to make it easier for me to write and easier to follow the story.**

**I hope you enjoyed :) The next chapter will be written soon. I'll try to be productive this time!**


	2. Max

"Max?"

Max's gaze shifted warily from the window back to her partner of a little more than three years, Warren Graham. He wore an endearing look of concern on his face, and Max almost felt guilty for making him worry about her all this time, yet, she knew it was part of his nature.

"Sorry, Warren," she faked a smile. "I was just distracted by the scenery."

"Hm," Warren huffed. "The scenery is… very barren," he commented good-naturedly.

Max felt the need to defend it. She absentmindedly stroked Chloe's bullet necklace around her throat. She turned her head back out to the window to scan the outside again. "It's hard to explain. There's a sense of simplicity to it. Everything is here because it's meant to be here."

_And there's no massive storm and no town to destroy everything._

"That makes sense I guess. Doesn't change the fact that you totally weren't listening."

Max lips curled upwards again, this time her grin just a bit more genuine. "Okay, I wasn't. Too distracted by my own thoughts, I guess."

"I could tell. Would you care to elaborate?"

"I-" Max stuttered. She had told Warren everything in time. It took a while to get used to spending time with him without thinking of him and Joyce being trapped inside the Two Whales as it imploded. It took close to a year for Max to become accustomed to the hauntings of her adventures with Chloe through the lost timeline.

At times, she wasn't sure if she still made the correct choice. But when she's alone with Warren, or Facetiming Kate, or even spending time with Joyce, she knows she made the right one.

"I still miss... Chloe," she finished.

Warren nodded, his eyes firmly on the road. He always felt guilty about the fact that Max had chosen the town, _him_, over her best friend. A guilt that had always been a strain on their relationship.

Max hated bringing Chloe up. Not because Warren didn't understand. He did. She explained to him everything that happened during the week in the old timeline… with certain exceptions.

Warren's problem was that he understood too much at times. His protective qualities and his bottomless well of sympathy and understanding were some of his strongest traits. Traits that she admired him for.

There were times when she needed him. Nightmares of Mark Jefferson, of Chloe deaths that she couldn't prevent, nightmares of a past that no longer existed that haunted her. Warren's endless reserves could quiet the storm always bubbling inside her. Ironic it is, that by preventing one storm caused another storm of guilt to live inside her, nearly five years after the tragedy.

The more Max needed Warren, the larger the tension between them grew. Warren was able to ignore it, perhaps he may not have even noticed it, but she did. The days in which they communicated grew longer. The text's less frequent. The nights spent snuggled under a blanket, sharing popcorn while semi-watching the latest movie came and gone.

She distanced herself because she had to. She wanted to prove to herself that her feelings for him weren't because he was trying to be her white knight. Any feelings for him were natural. Based on desire and intimacy. Based on mutual growth and respect, not on emotional stability or healing.

Essentially, she no longer wanted to feel like she was using him.

Most people called it a "break". But it wasn't, not really. Max still thought about him all the time. She still wanted to be with him. She knew she was not being fair. She knew that she had a chance of losing him.

Max also knew she probably didn't deserve him.

She wished Chloe were here now. Chloe would tell her that she was overthinking, per usual, and to tell him how much she cared about him and all the "emotional crap", and she would feel better.

But she wasn't here. She wasn't here because Max chose it to be this way.

If she had chosen differently; if she had taken the path less traveled, then what would have come of it? Chloe and herself would hitch a ride and desert the town? But what about everyone else? Who said that Max could play god and sacrifice everyone else? All the friends she made along the way?

She had reflected for so long what she lost, but as Warren always reminds her, she's the reason he's still here today. She's the reason why everyone else is still alive.

But inevitably, it was all bullshit. Chloe was the hero, not her.

A hand slipped into her own, as her gaze moved from the window, to the red dunes of dirt outside the windshield. Warren's hand in hers returned her back to the present, away from the ghosts of her mind.

Warren didn't say anything because there was nothing left to say. After four years, he had dried up every word in the English lexicon. He had used up every possible way to say, "I'm sorry."

A month ago, Max had the idea to take this trip. A cross country trip, just like they have in the movies, to rekindle. They had both chosen seperate colleges. Warren went to Washington for chemistry; Max to Academy of Art Institution for, obviously, photography. Warren was working on his doctorate, and his professor had let him take his last final early.

Max had been indecisive before starting college. She thought she would take a gap year, but ultimately decided on diving headfirst into college. She hoped it would distract her from Chloe.

It did, somewhat. She made some friends at the Art Institute, but none came close to the bonds made at Blackwell.

Professor Hayward had given them their final exam in March. She was tasked with finding something extraordinary in the world. Ironic that it was almost the antithesis of the Everyday Hero assignment tasked to her during that week.

Max was starting to learn that the more things change, the more they stay the same, no matter how much time passes.

"So where are we headed next?" asked Max, just to break the tense silence.

"I was thinking we should visit Las Vegas! There's always something magical going on there."

"If by 'magical' you mean gambling and puking in the streets," she smiled joshingly. "Then of course."

"You know it," he chuckled. "You know, Vegas was where yours truly was conceived."

Max side-eyed him playfully. She swiftly imagined his parents, and wrinkled her nose in half mocking disgust. "Warren," she replied while squeezing his hand, "you need to learn the phrase, 'too much information'."

He waved his left hand, as if shooing her suggestion away. "I know what it means." His boyish grin, even though he was now 20, burned bright. "You should feel privileged I shared this information. Not many know this."

"That's the thing though," she turned slightly in her seat to face him. "I didn't want to know that."

He grinned at her. He took his eyes off the road and winked at her, his brown eyes almost glistening in the sunlight.

Ordinarily, she would have told him to keep his eyes on the road, but she let him do what he wanted. Partly because she doubted she'd run into anyone for miles, partly because she trusted him.

Sure enough, Warren turned back to face the road. She took her opposite hand to turn up the radio, hoping it would distract him from further conversation. She wasn't in a jovial mood, and she'd rather not pretend she was.

Max glanced over at him one more time. It almost amazed her how close they'd gotten, and how handsome he'd become (not that he wasn't cute before).

Warren had grown an inch or two taller, his brown hair cut shorter. His face had evened out, his chubby cheeks giving into slightly more defined cheekbones. It wasn't a drastic change, she could still see the awkward sixteen year old who had a hopeless crush on her (that she was too oblivious to see), but it was growth.

_I haven't changed much. Not at all,_ she thought to herself as she turned her head back around to her window, with a sigh.

Max stared out the window, and her reflection stared back. She experimented growing her hair out for a time, but always ended up chopping it back off. Warren always liked it, no matter what, but it felt plain. Maybe she'll dye it.

Her face was still dotted with freckles, her nose still small. Her skin still pale. Aside from the ever growing bags under eyes, physically not much had changed.

Yet Warren's feelings had never abided. He always told her she was beautiful. Someday, she might start to believe him.

As she stared, she noticed a car pulled over on the road. She thought about alerting Warren, but it had probably been long since abandoned.

She let go of his hand. It was starting to get clammy. The A.C. was cranked to the max, considering they were in a desert. Max bent down to her bag between her feet.

"What the-?"

Max looked up, typical curiosity clouding her thoughts. "What do you mean?"

"Looks like someone's walking..?"

Max shot up in her seat. Warren slowed down, both of them noticing it was indeed a person walking through the desert.

"Pull over," said Max.

* * *

The person was a boy. He was just a few inches taller than her, with a Hispanic appearance, a grey tank top, and dark jeans. His hair was cut short to the base of his skull, and he wore a bandage over his eye.

He had been out here for a while, that was for certain. He was caked in sweat, and practically panting in the heat.

Still, he hesitated. She could see the distrust in his brown eyes. She could tell he had seen a lot, too much even. He had matured far more than he had ever should.

Yet there was steel in his eyes. Some sort of determination.

He pursed his lips before nodding once. "Okay."

There was awkward fumbling as Warren forgot to mention that the door behind Max was stuck. Several seconds later, he climbed in behind Warren with a heavy sigh.

"So," Warren pondered hesitantly. He shifted the beat up, blue hatchback into drive and continued on the road. "Where are you headed?"

Max lifted her eyes to the rearview mirror, her curiosity peaking. He looked even more wary, but he relaxed slightly with the question. He looked familiar somehow, like she had seen him before. Though, she was certain she did not know anyone with a hurt/missing eye.

"Haven Point," he answered finally.

"Sure! Uh," Warren shifted in his seat. "Where exactly is that?" he muttered.

Max smiled. "I'll look it up."

She glanced at the rearview mirror one more time as she dug out her phone. The boy seemed to relax once more, perhaps noticing that they definitely weren't a threat. Just awkward.

While Warren asked politely if he could feel the A.C., Max looked up Haven Point on Moogle. All that came up was the cute little dinosaur telling her she had no connection.

"Sorry," she frowned. "Looks like I don't have service."

"It's fine," the boy answered. He swung his backpack around to his lap. Max could see a cute little guitar pick dangling from a zipper. She made a mental note about that.

"I have a map."

He was true to his word. He dug out a good old fashioned map. Max could see as he folded it out that he had marked places he's been.

_Wowser, it looks like he's also been travelling everywhere as well. I wonder what's so special about Haven Point. I know neither Warren or I have ever heard of it._

In her reverie, she didn't even notice what the boy said. She glanced at Warren for context, and saw him frowning.

"About 30 miles ahead? That's cool. We have to stop for gas though. Do you mind?"

"No, I don't mind."

Warren nodded, and with that the conversation ended. Max asked to borrow the map, which the boy obliged. She showed Warren the nearest gas station, in which he nodded.

Then it dawned on her. She adjusted in her seat to look at him. "Sorry, I just realized, we never even asked for your name."

"Oops!" Warren exclaimed with a laugh. "I'm sorry, I totally forgot. I'm Warren."

"And I'm Max."

He paused for a brief moment. "I'm Sean. Thank you for the ride."

She waited for him to say more, but he didn't. Warren said something back, but Max returned to her seat, her eyes back on the road.

Silence filled the car, but it was a far more comfortable silence. The trio rode on, each person's thoughts in various places.

Max glanced at Sean again. She felt there was something familiar about him, but she wasn't sure what it was. Her curiosity was burning, and she was wrestling with the idea of asking him some questions, when she felt Warren's hand on her knee.

It wasn't an abnormal occurrence. His hands have been in far more intimate places than her knee. What was unusual was his fidgeting.

The foot that was not steady on the gas, was tapping in a slow, steady rhythm on the floor. His fingers on her knee repeating the jive.

It hit her then. _He's nervous. I wonder why._

* * *

The car ride continued for the next 14 miles without much of a hitch. The silence was never broken, but Max was okay with that. She still had questions, such as what Sean had done all that traveling for. And that's not even close to how many questions about his eye.

The only reason she held her tongue was because of Warren. It was worrying her how anxious he was seeming. It was almost like he was threatened by Sean's presence, or at least weirded out.

She didn't understand it. He didn't seem that intimidating. Just tired and weary, sort of like her.

Did Warren see something she didn't?

She would have to find some time to ask. They pulled into a gas station. A tiny station in the middle of a desert. She noticed earlier a sign that read "Footnote, Nevada". It certainly seemed as big as a footnote.

She had to pee. She voiced it to the car. Warren nodded, saying he needed something to drink. Sean thought about it, and said he would wait in the car.

Max nodded at him. She left in a hurry, with Warren not far behind. She did her business, and found Warren waiting patiently outside.

"We need to talk."


	3. Sean II

Sean popped open the car door, and swung his cramped legs out the the shaded outside. He sighed before stenciling that last bit of shadow into his notebook.

He had started the sketch of his two rescuers nearly 25 minutes ago, and he knew he could take his time. He had sketched his view from the backseat, the silhouettes of Max and Warren outlined against the wasteland in front of them. He even added little halos to each of their heads to add to the effect.

Still, it was hard to be comfortable. He had met some strangers along the journey, and, yes, quite a few of them were helpful. Brody, Finn and Cassidy…

But several others went out of their way to cause him and Daniel pain or discomfort or both. Typically, if he were going to be honest, almost all of those guys were white.

So, when two white strangers pull up and offered him a ride, he hesitated. He almost said, "No thanks, I can make it from here."

But he didn't. He put his faith in them. So far, it's paid dividends.

He stood and stretched, returning his notebook to his backpack while sighing.

It wasn't the same without Daniel. He was starting to miss his kid brother's endless curiosity, his stubborn attitude. He could imagine him walking all over the gas station, and investigating every nook and cranny. He probably would have asked Max and Warren several hundred questions by now.

"Anxious?" A soft voice broke through his thoughts.

His eyes shot up. It was at this point he realized that his leg was shaking profusely.

"Uh, no," he lied. It had become natural to him now, and a part of him hated that. "Just a nervous habit."

She nodde like she understood. A small silence elapsed between then. He risked a look up to her eyes. Her blue irises were clouded over, as if she were in thought. Guarded, perhaps.

"I get it," she replied gently. "You wanna go for a walk?"

He frowned in sudden consternation. "A walk?"

She nodded, her eyes unchanging. "Yeah, Warren's having stomach issues."

"Hm." He wasn't quite sure if he believed her. "Stomach issues" could mean anything. It could also mean calling the police on him.

But if they were calling the police, why lead him away from where they were? He didn't want to believe Max would set a trap on him, but, even if she did, would staying out even be the wiser choice? He was surrounded by multiple people, all of them having no part in any of this. Not only that, but he would be a sitting duck.

At least by taking this walk, he'd be on the move. And, if he absolutely had to, he could overpower the thin, freckled girl.

"Okay," he answered. He slapped his hands on his knees and promptly stood. He turned to grab his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder.

Sean glanced back at her, but she didn't ask why he was bringing his backpack. His suspicions rose, but he also figured she saw him put his notebook in there, and he would want to bring it. After all, she was taking her own bag.

Standing next to her, he realized he had a few inches of height on her. That, and seeing her pale thin frame next to him felt almost similar to walking with Lyla a lifetime away in Seattle.

He felt a pang in his heart then. It was a strange mixture of loneliness and nostalgia. Not for the first time, he missed his old, comfortable life back in Seattle. He missed when his biggest problems in life were asking Jenn Murphy out. When his little brother was nothing more than an annoyance.

They had each walked several paces beyond the gas station when Sean felt himself being bumped to the ground.

A gruff looking white boy, maybe just a year older than he stood over him, wearing a sadistic smirk. He bent over to put his ugly face nose to nose with Sean before growling "Out of my way, spic."

Sean glared back at him in contempt. He had seen his fair share of racist assholes. They only seemed to get worse as they neared the border.

Before he could say anything, he could see Max give the racist the tiniest shove. "Leave him alone!"

The boy stumbled back a few steps, seemingly caught off-balance. His eyes glanced from Max to Sean, who had begun to slowly pick himself up off the ground. The surprise seemed to wane off of his face after a short time.

"What are you doing with this… beaner?"

"My _friend_," Max retorted, "and I were just stretching our legs when you pushed him down!"

The racist's nose crinkled up in disgust. He took a step forward towards Sean. "Your _friend_ is here illegally. He and his people think they can just hop the border and pretend to be us! The-"

"Fuck you," Sean growled. "This is my country."

Max bit her lip, looking like she was trying to decide what to say. But she didn't get the chance. Their opposition took a step back. He looked at them both before scoffing. "Whatever, you one-eyed freak. I got better things to do than this. But you and your white girlfriend make me sick."

Sean wanted to say something back, but he bit his tongue. For once the situation seemed that it was going to end without violence. Maybe that was because he had Max with him, maybe it was just his lucky day. He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to dwell on it too much.

As he walked past, he tried to shoulder through Sean, but Sean stood tough. The racist tried to peer at him around his flannel, but Sean ignored him. Max grabbed the wrist of Sean's sleeve to get him moving again.

"Let's go." Her voice sounded on the urge of pleading, but steady.

"Okay," Sean muttered as he relaxed his tense shoulders. He allowed her to drag him away from the friction, now grateful for her presence. He waited several paces to speak again, with his head cast down to the ground and his eyes on the pavement. "Well that could've gone better."

"Trust me," Max replied slowly. "It really could not have."

"Maybe. But thanks. Honestly, I didn't think you had it in you."

Max licked her lips. She seemed nervous. "It's something I picked up from a friend of mine. Among many other things."

Before he could ask what she meant by something so cryptic, Max brought out a blunt and a lighter. Sean turned in surprise and raised an eyebrow at her. She blushed. "Sorry, do you want to take a hit?"

Sean thought for a second. "Yeah." He tried to smile reassuringly, but it may have come out as a grimace.

"Okay," Max said, but it sounded as if it were mostly to herself. "Don't tell Warren. I don't want to explain to him why it helps."

Sean gently took the blunt and the little pink lighter out of her hands. "Because he wouldn't understand."

Max shook her head. "Because," she scratched her nose. "He'd try to understand too much."

"What do you mean?"

She waited for him to take a hit. He coughed slightly and she took a water bottle out of her camera bag. She held it out for him to take.

"Thanks."

She nodded. "Let's just say he can be overbearing sometimes."

"Ah."

"I love him; I do. It's just…"

"He doesn't understand completely."

"Right. He can sympathize, but he can't empathize." She took back the blunt before lighting up for herself. She inhaled and exhaled. She coughed just a little more than him.

Sean sighed. He adjusted his backpack that started to slip off his shoulders. "Do you-" he took a sip of water.

"Maybe." She took a drink of her own water that he didn't notice she had. "I feel like there's so much to say."

"Ditto," Sean replied. He thought again of his dad. Of Daniel. All the people he kept losing. Guilt was gnawing once again at his veins.

She stopped, and he stumbled trying to halt his own footsteps. He peered at her curiously while she dug through her bag. Eventually after some cussing she found what she was looking for. She took out a glossy photo before handing him it, albeit cautiously.

He took it gingerly in his right hand. Bringing it to his left, he scanned it curiously. It was Max, looking relatively the same, but with the bags under eyes significantly smaller, and with another girl. This one was completely punk rock, with pale skin, a tattoo sleeve and a navy blue beanie. She and her were both smiling, not a care in the world. The photo was dated sometime in 2013, October, he deduced.

"Nice photo," he said, letting the question linger.

"That's my best friend, Chloe." Max took a shaky breath. Sean could tell he was bringing on a memory, a very painful one.

"She and I were inseparable. Like sisters, or as I was teased a lot, like girlfriends. We did everything together, two partners in crime. Sometimes literally."

"She sounds great."

"Usually," she chuckled.

"What happened to her?" he asked. He handed her the photo, and she tucked it back in her bag.

She continued to kneel on the ground; her hands rifling through her bag. Sean waited patiently for her. After a few more moments, she stopped to collect herself. "She was, uh, shot."

"Shot?"

"Yeah," she continued quietly. She slowly zipped up her bag, yet remained kneeled on the ground. Her eyes stared morosely into the pavement. "She was shot in the girl's bathroom of all places. She bled out. Right in the middle of the room."

Sean took a cautious step towards her. He wasn't sure how to comfort her. But a vague memory was wrestling to the surface of his mind. He can barely recall an assembly at school where they talked about a girl from Oregon being shot and killed. Of course the school gave them "advice" on how to deal with these situations. "I'm sorry, Max. There's nothing you could've done."

Max gave him a sardonic, miserable smile. "There was a lot I could have done. I was in the bathroom when it happened."

"Shit," Sean breathed. "That sucks." _That sucks? Really Sean? _he thought to himself.

Max winced. "It does." She shouldered her bag and nodded her head forward to continue their walk. Sean let his feet carry him to meet her.

"The reason I told you this is to let you know that I understand how it feels."

"How it feels?" Sean parroted slowly.

Max gave him a wistful smile. "Warren and I know Sean."

Sean stopped in his tracks. His hands curled into fists and blood rushed to his cheeks. He swallowed. "What are you-"

Max held her hands up in surrender. "We aren't going to say anything."

Sean sighed in relief. Now that he was calming down, he realized how ridiculous it was to become confrontational and scared. If they had wanted to report him, they easily could have done it inside the gas station._Stupid_, he chided himself.

"Thank you," he said instead. His voice cracked, and he felt embarrassed. Like a little kid.

"Here," Max pointed. Up ahead, there sat a tiny bench. Just beyond that, a small park like area. Possibly designed to let children play after a long car ride. Sean nodded and the two sat down. Both companions sat on opposite sides of the bench, giving each other room to breathe.

"You're welcome." Max took out her camera and briefly stopped to capture a photo of children playing. "Warren wanted to do something… drastic," she rambled as she put her cam away. "I convinced him to let it die."

"Thank you." Sean made a mental note to be wary of Warren.

Max shrugged. "You're welcome. It took some doing, and no matter what I said he was still a little ticked. But he won't say anything."

Sean nodded, but he wasn't sure what to say. He was growing tired of his life being put in the hands of strangers. Even if some of them were nice, those that weren't always spelled trouble. Trouble he was tired of dealing with.

"I saw the footage," Max continued, breaking him of his reverie.

"Footage?"

Max gazed at him in surprise. "You don't know?"

"No?" Sean could feel his stomach drop with the ensuing anxiety.

"It's not a big deal," Max quickly added. "The Seattle police released a dashcam on the officer's car that basically played barely heard audio. And then out of nowhere a big gust of wind blows everything over. A wind so powerful it knocks other cars down."

Sean nodded for her to continue. She waited as if to gather her next thoughts. "Warren was more interested in it than I was. He was following the story. How a cop car got blown to the side when it was about to hit a kid. And then he was talking my ear off in San Diego about some devastation at a weed farm a few weeks ago. Apparently you and your brother had something to do with it."

Sean laughed nervously. "Yeah, maybe."

"He was saying that it all seems… odd. Everywhere you go there's some big catastrophe, or at least a close one. And it has the same results. He thought you or your brother might have a superpower or something."

Sean shivered. Did she realize how close she was to the truth? What if she decided to tell everyone? What would happen then, to him and Daniel?

"Well, uh, it's weird. I know, trust me. But Daniel and I don't have superpowers. It's bizarre stuff just happens to us.

Max smiled with a trace of sympathy, and seemingly _knowing_. She turned her gaze back to the playground. A child Daniel's age had just jumped off of a swing only to be chastised by his father. "Life is funny sometimes." She seemed to hesitate, caught on something she wasn't saying. "You know-"

She was interrupted by a loud chirping sound. She apologized before yanking her phone out of her pocket. She grunted then in aggravation before glancing at the caller ID when answering. Sean turned his attention back to the slide. He pretended that he wasn't listening.

"Yeah... No, we went for a walk…" She sighed, exasperated. "Why does that matter, Warren? Okay… No, it's okay. Yeah, we'll be there soon… I'm sorry too… I love you too. Bye."

Sean shot her a quizzical look. Max frowned back.

"We better go back."


	4. Finale

"You were gonna tell me something."

They had retraced their steps back to the car. An awkward tension had descended their way on them. It had started to feel like they were bonding. Max had shoved her hands in her pockets, while Sean walked next to her, his shoulders stiff.

Max had licked her lips, while struggling to say anything. Sure, she was used to being awkward. This awkwardness was ever so slightly different. She was in the desperate need to say something. Just something to take the edge off of both of them.

The truth was, she felt bad for them. She could understand why Warren was wary. Even if they were innocent of the killing of the police officer in Seattle (as both of them believe), she had to admit that no matter where Sean and his brother went, disaster followed. It wasn't unlike her. She can definitely remember disaster and death seeming to follow her at every turn.

She'll never be able to forget what it's like.

It's why though every news report, through every newspaper article, podcast or blog she continued to empathize with the two boys from Seattle. She'd hope that by some miracle all their issues with the police and media would be resolved and they could go home safely.

_They lost their dad!_ she recalled. _An officer shot him!_

_We don't know that, Max!_ Warren refuted calmly. _For all we know, the older boy shot the officer in retaliation. The footage-_

_I don't give a fuck about the footage! It's li-_

_It's not like a few years ago, _Warren cut her off gently. He tried to take both of her hands, perhaps looking to soothe her, but Max ripped them away. Warren flinched like he'd been slapped.

_Look, I'm not saying it isn't awful for them. I'm saying that we should look at the facts._

Max scoffed. _You're the only one that cares about facts. That's all you ever do. Remind me of the facts!_

_This isn't like that at all._ Warren pleaded. He sounded hurt.

Max cringed. She felt guilty, taking it out on him. But she was not ashamed. _Just forget about it_, she insisted while grabbing her bag. _It's obviously not important._ She shouldered her way out of his dorm room._ I need some air._

The memory had come unregulated. It had almost been an afterthought. She had already been pissed off, and his dismissive attitude in the wake of the tragedy had set her off. True, they had not known anyone involved. It's easy to be unattached to a tragedy when you have no personal connection. Though to Max, any time she heard of a situation where a person was gunned down unjustly, she felt raw and unfiltered grief.

Her fog would lift eventually like it always did, but she remained high strung about these things. Some things you just can't let go of.

But Warren held on. It was one of their only fights, and he of course felt as though he had to make up for it.

As weeks went by, Warren's resolve to set things right grew. He filled Max in on updates, on news articles and opinions on "experts". She felt touched to some degree that he went so far for her. But she also thought he was trying to save face.

Not saying she didn't care for his updates. She didn't forget about the Diaz boys and hoped that the situation would somehow be resolved the right way. But she moved on, even if he didn't.

Until of course, their paths crossed.

"I was just gonna say, uh…" She licked her lips. Truth be told, she was going to tell him everything. About her powers, the tornado, the things she'd seen…

Something told her that he'd understand to some degree. He'd seen his fair share of bizarre shit, maybe just as much as she had. She thought about all the stuff she'd seen on his backpack. All the little items. Souvenirs, she assumed.

She swallowed. "I was just gonna say, even if you or your brother did have some sort of powers. I'd understand."

Sean and her stopped for a second to let a car pass. He seemed to take in her words for a brief second. "How so?"

"Because I have a power."

"You?"

"Yes," she rambled. "I can rewind time."

It took some doing to convince him. Ironically, she had used her time ability to help. She had gotten rusty with it, from years of nonuse. Years she had feared another disaster would occur with her power. Those fears had not subsided, but this was a special occasion.

Hopefully, her two little rewinds won't cause another tornado or earthquake or mass plague or otherwise. In fact, her one other rewind, the altercation with the racist from earlier, had been enough to convince him. He took it well. Well, better than most.

"So, you're able to rewind time? Like whenever how however?"

"Not exactly," she answered with a pained smile. "I can only go back a few moments at a time. Unless I have a photo."

"A photo?"

"Yeah. I kinda insert myself into the photo from the time it was taken. It's pretty trippy."

"Oh, okay." She could see the hope that he had fade away. If she could fix everything for him, he would. But she couldn't.

But there was something she could do.

"Hey," Warren called over to them. The gas station had all but emptied of people, leaving just the three of them. "I'm sorry about what hap-"

"It's fine," Max cut him off with a quick chaste kiss. "Like I said, I understand. Let's just get out of here and get to Haven Point."

"Right," Warren nodded. He gave an apologetic look to Sean before climbing into the car. The trio carried on their journey in thoughtful silence. For Max, it was the realization of what she was about to do. For a long time she regretted ever having her power. It did give her some good things, like Warren or having a whole week with Chloe, but it did not feel worth the headache. Maybe though, just maybe her power still had some use.

After some time, they found what they were looking for. Warren pulled over to face a fenced in church. Sean muttered a thank you before climbing his way out.

"Hold on a sec," Max called out. Sean raised an eyebrow but seemed to comply. Max searched through her bag and managed to grab a hold of her instant cam. Warren eyed her curiously, but nodded in understanding when she looked at him.

She shifted her glance back at Sean and lifted her camera. "Remember what we talked about?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"Well then, smile."


End file.
